Minion Mistress Prequel
by General Herbison
Summary: The story of Jinx, Kniff, and others before the events of Minion Mistress. Discover the origins of these two characters in a series of pieces created brilliantly by Sunjinjo. Will contain spoilers for both games' storylines.


**General Herbison: Hello everyone and welcome to the beginning of a series of pieces created by the wonderful Sunjinjo on deviantart, the writer of Minion Mistress. Now the first few shots will elaborate on the events before Minion Mistress and how it came to be. Enjoy.**

**The Loyal One**

_For the Minion who never made it into my horde, but tagged along from the beginning to me._

Triumph flowed through his veins like liquid fire as the light surrounded him, enveloped him, and a familiar feeling told him he was swept back, across miles and miles of land, to his Tower. 

He'd done it. The sixth Hero was dead. He'd finally slain Kahn the Vengeful, that beast of a man, so large he even towered over _him_. It hadn't been easy – it'd been a wreckage of a pursuit through Spree and Angelis, and now Lord Vessperion was exhausted. He was looking forward to being back in his Tower, with his Mistress, in peace, and to find out where the seventh and last Hero was hiding… 

The throne room loomed out of the Tower Gate's white light before him. Vessperion strode out of the glimmering portal with one step, as the light falling in over the balcony gleamed off his armour, and rolled with his mighty shoulders. 

"All hail the return of the Overlord," a creaky, old voice resounded. "The one true Evil!" 

Vessperion chuckled. "Gnarl, you lickspittle." He raised his gaze to the throne, all the way across the long hall and a path flanked by countless Minions. Gnarl was standing next to the grand, angular seat of power, but the old Minion wasn't looking his way. The yellow eyes were gazing upwards, to the throne itself. 

There was someone else in the hall. On the throne. His throne. 

Only now did Gnarl turn his eyes Vessperion's way, and the look in them was something the Overlord wasn't used to. "Oh no, not you, the _real_ Overlord." 

Vessperion stared at the figure on the throne as if frozen in place. A red robe. A long white beard. Narrowed eyes full of poison. 

"Oh yes," the grey advisor chuckled. "I've always been loyal to Evil. I don't ask questions. Evil is as Evil does." The old Minion looked up at the man on the throne again, a reverence in his eyes Vessperion hadn't seen before. "Welcome back, Sire." 

"_Sire?!_" Vessperion uttered. A dagger of horrible realization plunged itself into his chest. The advisor's voice echoed through his head, words spoken as he'd entered this throne room for the very first time. _Alas, one cannot be a bastion of Evil these days without wretched heroes lining up to prove themselves! That last lot were particularly bothersome, killing your predecessor like that. Still, you're here now, Sire. Evil will always find a way._

Evil will always find a way. 

"I am home," spoke the man on the throne. His voice was deep and rough, almost primal. A darkness spoke from it, compared to which Vessperion felt himself shrink away. "Even if I did have to hitch a ride inside this wizened and weary body. I believe you've met my daughters… Velvet…" The man outstretched a hand, gesturing upward to the paths higher up in the hall. Vessperion looked up involuntarily. It was as though his own body no longer obeyed him. He was under the spell of the figure on the throne… the previous Overlord, the real Overlord, the dark entity whose place he'd taken all those months ago, nothing more than a puny puppet… Lord Alcazar, the Cruel. 

Leaning on the balustrade was a young woman with short black hair, smiling down at him. Her grey eyes were full of spite. "Hello, Vessperion. I knew we'd meet again. You promised me so yourself!" She briefly stroked her belly. "Well, this is the last time, believe me." 

"She has been most useful to me," Alcazar chuckled. "And then there's Rose. I don't think she's quite made up her mind yet, have you, my child?" 

"You are not my father, you filthy deceiver," Vessperion's Mistress snarled, hurrying down the stairs to her spouse's side. "And this is not your Tower!" 

Alcazar's lips curled into a cruel smile, but he didn't react to Rose's words. "You thought you'd killed me, didn't you? You and your hero friends! But I'd planned a little trip, you see… really get under Good's skin… literally!" The red-robed Overlord let out a booming laugh. "That fool Fengor thought he'd won, until I purged his very soul and became one with his mortal carcass!" 

Gnarl folded his hands and stared at Vessperion from Alcazar's side. "Now that, you'll agree, is a cunning plan." His rubbery lips twisted into a terrible smile. Vessperion almost cringed – everything seemed to crumble around him as memory after memory forced itself back into his mind, everything that'd been erased from his memory since the Minions had found him and patched him up at the Tower's base… 

The Seven Heroes had been his _friends_. Melvin, Oberon, William, Goldo, Jewel, Kahn, Fengor. His friends. And he'd just personally killed the last one… who'd still been himself. 

"One by one the others fell to my corrupting influence! Those walls of goodness, purity, obedience… One just has to know where to push!" Alcazar bored his gaze deeply into Vessperion's eyes, as the armoured Overlord slowly and almost unconsciously started walking towards the throne. His steel boots came down onto the throne room floor almost soundlessly. Rose outstretched her hands to him, but Alcazar seemed to have a hold over her as well – she could not follow him. 

"And as for you… You fell, and they left you behind in their desperation to become heroes! I gave you a second chance… a different path. You were of use to me! But now you're just in my way…" The robed Overlord rose up from the throne and invitingly spread his arms wide. "Minions!" 

The armoured creatures, armed to the teeth, that'd been flanking the path to the throne finally stirred. Like a single being they swarmed to the throne and around it, and they were not the only ones. Minions appeared from every nook and cranny, streaming down along the stairs and up from the catacombs. They cheered with joy, adoration, relief. "Master!" the raspy voices rang out. "_Master!_" On all sides yellow eyes shone and gleamed, overjoyed to see their old ruler again. 

Next to the throne, Quilt, Vessperion's jester, jumped around cartwheeling and somersaulting in glee. "We are _your_ Minions, Sire, he was _nothing_ compared to you, your supreme Evilness!" 

Vessperion came to a halt. Those words struck him right in the heart. A sigh escaped his lips as the air was beaten from his lungs. 

"I believe you've been borrowing my spells… no more!" Alcazar outstretched a hand to him, the fingers curved like claws. Vessperion immediately shot up straight, every muscle tensed, his eyes tightly shut, his entire body burning with pain. He managed to open one eye, and witnessed in disbelief as a radiant white figure was pulled out of him, like a shining mirror image of himself. The figure slowly floated to the throne, where Alcazar greedily reeled it in. Not much later the light was gone and Vessperion smacked down onto the floor, exhausted, without so much as a spark of magic in his body. 

"Now I shall eliminate your physical presence. You already dealt with the others for me… my little puppet!" 

"No!" 

The voice was clear and shrill. All eyes fell upon a point further away in the hall, where a slender figure in a rose-red dress stood with one foot on a staircase leading down. 

"Rose?" the robed Overlord growled. 

"There is a way to weaken him, love," the Mistress spoke. "I'll see you at the Heart!" She darted away, running down the stairs as fast as she could, taking three steps at once. 

"Rose! Don't make me kill you!" Alcazar roared. He flew up from the throne, to shoot past Vessperion before he could even lift an armoured finger. His enemy disappeared below the throne room first, then Gnarl, then the countless Minions.

It took a while for Vessperion to get back to his feet. 

As he eventually hoisted himself up, his head was spinning so severely he almost fell down again, and not just because of the attack on his body and mind he'd just endured. 

Everything he thought he knew had been turned around completely. 

At least now he knew why he'd sometimes been helping the people sighing under the cruel and idiotic rule of the Seven Heroes. He'd unmade part of their mistakes – mistakes of his old friends, ultimately caused by Alcazar. 

But how was he going to get out of _this_? No Minions. No magic. 

He waited for the worst dizziness to pass, and then hurried to the stairs leading down into the catacombs. Rose was doubtlessly in trouble, and he couldn't let that slide. She was the only one to stand by him, and he was immensely grateful for that. 

The darkness beneath the throne room wasn't broken by anything but lanterns. No Minion eyes, no flashes of magic. Just his footsteps and his panting. 

As he eventually reached the catacombs, a red glow shone towards him; a worrying, furious fiery light. 

"Foolish girl, you have damaged the Tower Heart! Never trust family," Alcazar's deep voice growled. 

Vessperion reached the bottom of the stairs, just in time to see Rose running into the tunnel he'd woken up in all those months ago. The stone doors slammed shut, and he could hear his Mistress barricading herself. Alcazar turned to the doors, but before he could do anything to open them, Vessperion stepped into the chamber. 

Between him and Alcazar hung a scarlet, furiously spinning pearl, in midair. Vessperion froze seeing the damaged Tower Heart, but the old Overlord immediately spun around upon his entrance. "Hello, Vessperion," his predecessor sneered. "Well, no matter. Once I absorb _all_ your energy, I will restore it to its full power…" He outstretched an arm. "Minions!" 

A growl reached Vessperion's ears. The armoured Overlord turned around. 

From the tunnels leading to the Hives small figures appeared, with familiar glowing eyes. They resembled the Minions Vessperion knew in nothing, however. These Minions seemed changed, twisted, darkened – even beyond the powers of destruction they'd been in Vessperion's hands. He realized it again, with a devastating blow; Alcazar was the real Dark Lord, not him. He'd been a shadow of an Overlord. 

First came the browns, throwing themselves against him with all their brute force and various weapons. Short swords, axes, knives and clubs smashed down on him. These Minions had cast off all their stranger weapons, Vessperion noticed even during the struggle – there were no feelers of bomber beetles here, no arms of zombies or horns of unicorns.

Alcazar was ruthlessly efficient. 

Halfway through the fight with the browns, the reds joined in, and Vessperion's cloak was quickly smouldering beneath their rain of sparks. And as he became covered in jumping, clawing, hissing greens as well, a mix of rage and mortal fear took hold of him. His sword flashed in the halflight as he started to swing it in earnest – no longer trying to keep the Minions at a distance in the hope they'd change their minds, but trying to kill them, all of them. 

An Overlord without Minions was no Overlord, and if he did this, all hope for the throne would be lost for him, but he didn't want to die. He didn't want to fall by Lord Alcazar's hand – not again. 

He fought for his life, in the red light of the dying Tower Heart, and somewhere through the battle something started to change. Something in him knew he didn't stand a chance. These were the Minions, and he knew like no other what they could do. These were the Minions with whom he'd slain six Heroes, with whom he'd killed sea serpents, trolls and rock giants, with whom he'd almost ruled the world. But his body took over at a certain moment, and he handled his sword like never before. Minions fell on all sides, and there was no one to resurrect them. There were no blues with Alcazar. The part of Vessperion that could still think sprung up as he realized this – the blues hadn't picked a side, or were still on his! 

The part of Vessperion that could still think was also baffled as he realized he was actually starting to win. The reds were scattered through the dark chamber, but as he managed to stagger out of the mass of fighting browns and greens he could fell them with a few blows. The two other hordes were tougher, but the rage and fear gave him enough strength to hold on until the stony ground, his weapon and his armour dripped with dark blood. 

He kept swinging the sword around for a little while before he realized Alcazar's hordes had been defeated. Eventually his weapon came to a halt, and he lowered his arms. Every inch of his visible skin was covered in bloody scrapes, bruises or deep cuts. 

"You could have been a hero," Alcazar's deep voice resounded from the other end of the catacombs. "Just look at you now." A mocking laugh rang out through the cave. Then, without warning, it was followed by a thundering explosion. Vessperion shielded his face, and only lowered his bleeding arm as it was already too late to see Alcazar leaving. All that remained now was a ragged hole in the wall where he'd been standing – a hole from beyond which an unworldly glow flooded the cave. 

The old Overlord had closed off secret areas beneath the Tower… and now he wanted to end the battle there. 

These hadn't been all his Minions, not by a long shot. If anyone knew that, it was Vessperion… he'd gathered the clans and grew them into what they were now. He'd sealed his own fate. 

He was going to die here, far below his predecessor's domain. 

A scrape of stone over stone resounded behind him, but Vessperion didn't react, not even as light footsteps neared him. 

"Love…" 

A slight hand touched his shoulder. Vessperion placed his bloody gauntlet over it. "Rose," he muttered. "Thank you for saving me." 

Rose walked around him and lay a hand against his helmet, as if to force him to look at her. "Vessperion… you can't defeat him. You can't win." She paused. "That is _not_ my father. But by the looks of it, he does have Fengor's power… love, we have to leave this place." 

"I have nothing left," the Overlord spoke softly. "Nobody outside the Tower will accept me." 

"Nobody inside, either," Rose countered sadly, a plea in her eyes. 

Vessperion lowered his gaze. 

Then, from somewhere behind him, there came a new, very soft sound. A subtle rumbling from close to the ground… a brief, almost musical tone… 

The Overlord slowly turned around, away from his Mistress. 

Not far from the crazed, blood-red Tower Heart, another light shone towards him. Golden, and still small, but he knew how it could grow. 

A brown Minion gate. 

And as he looked on, with slowly flaring eyes, a little claw appeared in the light, a claw attached to a skinny arm, a sunken chest and a head with large yellow eyes and limp bat ears. 

A single brown Minion hoisted himself out of the light and scrambled up off the dusty ground. Vessperion slowly walked towards him, and knelt down. 

The yellow eyes slowly slid over Vessperion's steel boots, and up over his body. "Master…?" the newborn uttered. 

Vessperion lifted the spiky chin with one finger. "Master!" the Minion called out. 

"What's your name?" the Overlord asked, an incredulous smile in his voice. 

"Kniff, Master." 

Vessperion's eyes rippled in a real smile. "I won't forget this, Kniff." He stood up, raised a hand, and the brown Minion gate flared up like a Midsummer bonfire. More Minions tumbled from the light. 

"As long as I have life left in my body, as long as Minions are loyal to me, that's as long as I will fight for this Tower! This is _my_ heritage, and no one will take it from me!"

And no one took it from him. 

That same day Vessperion reclaimed the three other Hives and Minions of all clans re-joined him. It was only a fraction of his old armies, but with their combined efforts they beat back Alcazar's Minions to their robed Master, and eventually they even struck the old Overlord himself to the ground. And as he lay there, his magic extinguished, in the panting, exhausted body of Fengor the Red, Vessperion looked back into the yellow eyes of the first Minion to join him again, and then stepped forward and rammed the blade of his sword up to the hilt into Fengor's chest. 

The wizard had died long ago, but now, finally, the old Overlord died as well. 

The quest was completed. The land was his. The Tower was his. 

And Vessperion was so happy he even refrained from kicking Gnarl off the balcony as the advisor announced, with a grin just a bit too foul, he'd gladly have the younger Overlord back.

He kept looking after his first loyal Minion for a few more days, until Kniff had dressed up in Ruborian pieces of equipment looted on his first scouting missions sufficiently to blend into the horde, and for Vessperion to lose sight of him. Never did he see how his jester cast poisonous glances at the young Minion, as if he blamed him of committing terrible crimes. Never did he see how his jester snuck into the library of the private quarters, and never did he notice which book had gone missing.

"Gnarl, have you seen Quilt anywhere? I'm almost starting to miss the jingling." 

"No, Sire… but it's good you're here… there's something strange going on in the Mellow Hills… it's been a long time since I've felt this much dark energy, my Lord." 

"Nothing I can't handle, Gnarl. Nothing I can't handle."

**General: So there we have it, Kniff was that loyal Minion that rose to serve you in the battle of the Tower. Oh the history ties in so well. I shall see you all next time readers for the second part of the Minion Mistress History. Please review.**


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